Far Away
by Write-Love-Ship
Summary: Dalton Academy, a catholic orphanage, decided to contact schools and get pen pal participants for the orphanage's older children. The idea was extremely successful, but in ways that no one expected.
1. Chapter 1

Dalton Academy, a catholic orphanage, decided to contact schools and get pen pal participants for the orphanage's older children. The idea was extremely successful, but in ways that no one expected. One of the orphanage's children, Jeff Sterling, participated in this program and was assigned Nicholas Duval from Lima, Ohio. They wrote back and forth for a little over a year before finally meeting. On accident. Here we have the documentation of the moments leading up to that point.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Dear Pen Pal Number 36 from Lima, Ohio,

I've been assigned to write to you by Dalton Academy: Orphanage of Religion, Faith and Education. I'm not exactly sure how to start this. So, I guess I'll just tell you about myself, but don't think I'm overly conceited or anything.

My name is Jeff Sterling, I'm seventeen. I'm _supposed_ to be Catholic, but fuck that. The nuns don't really like me here. I've been at Dalton since I was two and probably will still be here until I turn eighteen, which is only a year away, thank god. My birthday was yesterday. I celebrated alone, so I decided to write this letter to you at one in the morning in hopes for having company for my birthday. If you don't return my letter, I'll completely understand. Who wants to talk to someone like me?

Sincerely,

Jeff Sterling

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Hey there! So good to finally hear from you! My whole show choir signed up for the pen pal program and I was the first to get a letter back, so thank you. You made me the popular one here in the McKinley Glee Club.

My name is Nick Duval and I turned seventeen about three weeks ago. I had a lonely birthday as well, so don't feel bad. Though, I do want to wish you the best of luck in the next year to getting adopted and having the time of your life. I wouldn't give up hope, and if anything, we can always come and adopt you.

I'm not Catholic, for obvious reasons actually. One, I'm Atheist and second, I'm gay. In my past experiences, those two don't mix very well with Catholicism. But, understand that I will not get down on you for your beliefs as long as you do the same for me. Though, you seem like a sweet enough guy.

And, _I_ want to talk to someone like you.

I like you already,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

Sorry it's been a while since I've written, I got in trouble for what you wrote before. One of the sisters took your letter because I was so red in the face. She thought you had sent something dirty. I still had to go to confession though.

As for what you told me though… About you being gay… I think that's very nice. I've never met a gay person before, considering where I am, and I've always wanted to talk to one. Not because you are different or a different species, like the Church suggests. I want to talk to someone to… understand. I think I might… I mean. I don't- I was never sure. The Church doesn't let me think clearly. Everything is too complicated. I just want to understand how you knew. Does it just happen? Or do you have to focus on just liking men?

I don't mean to sound rude. I just want to be sure in case I am… Like you.

I hope sister Roberta doesn't read this,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

My fingers were crossed she didn't read it.

Before I get into this, I just wanted to ask if you know anyone in Dalton named Blaine Anderson, one of my friends got him as their Pen pal. If you know him, give him a big hug from the New Directions and his pen pal Kurt.

I'll be more than happy to help you out. I know how conflicting things can be when you have all these other people putting pressure on you. I went through the same thing, but always remember: There are people who will always love you. If all else fails, you have me. Who, by the way, thinks that you are very brave for (almost) admitting that you might be gay. Even if you might not know, taking the first step to figure it all out is huge. You're a bigger person than I was. It took me a drunken night at Santana's to figure myself out. Now I imagine you might be gasping trying to figure out my implication and fighting to keep this piece of paper from the nuns. But if not, let's make sure that doesn't happen. I just want to make clear: it's not what you think. When I was drunk, I lost my filter and apparently starting talking about this guy in my history class, Sebastian. Since then I have come to terms and realized what it means to finally understand my sexuality.

Now, I don't imagine that you've ever _been_ with someone. DON'T BLUSH. And that's fine. It might actually help you. But, when I look at someone that I think is attractive, I don't get _intense_ feelings. Like those south of the equator. (I'm going to ask you again to either not read this in public or control your blushing). You don't need the really _intense _and _obvious_ feelings to figure things out. Just be honest with yourself. Do you want to know what's behind the plaid skirts or the sweater vests? I know that's a terrible example, but it's the truth. Which set of feelings and personal situations do you want to deal with in a relationship… As well as what equipment? Though, being interested in either doesn't mean that that is your sexuality. There's also that internal voice, telling you that _he's_ the one. He's the one that you just _want_ to talk to or spend time with or kiss or love. It shouldn't be a conscious choice. You just kind of know.

Hope this helped,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

You're lucky the nuns didn't read your letter. So very lucky. I could've gotten _locked_ in confession for that, and the priest doesn't even like me that much.

Thank you for answering me so quickly. It's kind of been hell over here and I needed someone to talk - or write - to besides my roommate _Blaine Anderson_. Yes, I gave him your hug and he says thank you.

Now, what you were saying before, about… Those things.

I have not been with anyone; again I'm in a Catholic orphanage, the only person I spend time with alone is Blaine, and I'm not even one hundred percent sure of what it feels like to feel attracted to someone. I mean, I've been told my whole life to never notice the physical things in people and I'm _so_ confused… I just want to know who I am. Is that so much to ask for?

Sorry,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Why are you saying sorry! This isn't something that you easily accept, and I understand that. Besides, it's all you. There is no one pressuring you or pushing to become or admit to being gay. Relax, Jeff. I'll talk to you no matter what you decide. You seem like such a nice person.

And, I hate to say this. But Jeff, live a little. Go outside and take a look around. See what you like. There are some pretty cute guys in Ohio, and I mean you live here right.

I'm only flirting with you,

Nick

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Jeff? What happened to you? You haven't spoken to me in two weeks… Is everything alright?

Please still be alive,

Nick

* * *

Dear Jeff,

JEFF! DEAR GOD! ANSWER ME! I'm worried sick… Was it something I said? I didn't mean to offend you with the flirting; I was just trying to make you smile. I know how Blaine can sometimes be over zealous and exhausting. Kurt's letters can be very revealing. I didn't mean anything by it, I'm sorry. I was just trying to be friendly.

Please answer me,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

I'm sorry for my absence… The nuns found the letters you sent me, and I got into trouble. Lots of it. I was sent to the priest and had to talk with him for six hours everyday for two weeks, (I'm writing this in church actually). I'm really sorry.

I wasn't offended by what you said. It actually made me smile. So, thank you, for everything.

You are right; there are some cute guys in Ohio. I ran into this lovely boy from New York at the library. He had these bright eyes and a warm smile. Though, he didn't really understand the concept of personal space. He kept touching my arm and asking me if I wanted to have a job. I tried to explain to him that I was underage and working papers weren't available to me, but he didn't quite understand. Are all boys this confused when it comes to working age limits? Just wondering.

Men are confusing,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Mercedes had to give the Heimlich maneuver during lunch today because of your letter. So thank you.

The reason I was choking? You are too innocent to even be walking around. I mean a _job_. Jeff, he wasn't referring to a summer job or a part time job. He was talking about like… _blow_ or _hand_ type jobs. I'm just realizing now that you probably don't know what they are. This is now really awkward because I'm writing this in pen and am too lazy to cross out or erase that last part. I know that if you really think hard about it, you're going to get what a job really is to that guy.

So, when you stop blushing, write back to me.

I'll be waiting,

Nick


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Jeff,_

_ Mercedes had to give the Heimlich maneuver during lunch today because of your letter. So thank you._

_ The reason I was choking? You are too innocent to even be walking around. I mean a job. Jeff, he wasn't referring to a summer job or a part time job. He was talking about like… blow or hand type jobs. I'm just realizing now that you probably don't know what they are. This is now really awkward because I'm writing this in pen and am too lazy to cross out or erase that last part. I know that if you really think hard about it, you're going to get what a job really is to that guy._

_ So, when you stop blushing, write back to me._

_ I'll be waiting,_

_ Nick_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Dear Nick,

I'm not sure what to even say to that.

Awkwardly,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

I see you are very literate when you are embarrassed. It's expected, seeing as though you just walked right into the more shady side of meeting random people. There are two types. People like me, helpful, a bit flirty, extremely handsome… Then there are _others_ that are rude, touchy and pretty much just a walking STD. I realize you probably don't know what that is either… I really need to just send you a dictionary. I can't keep explaining things to you and having you go to confession. I hear it's pretty scary in there. I mean, you just have to say everything you've done wrong to a random guy. Well, maybe to you he might be a bit closer, but from where I'm standing, it's creepy.

Sorry, my Atheist is showing,

Nicky

* * *

Dear Nick,

Nicky? That's a nice name? I like it. Do you mind if I call you that from now on? It's very cute.

Today, all the boys were allowed out into the city. I went back to the library and ran into Job Guy. And I took him up on it…

_ Wow_.

I decided that if I wanted to figure things out, I had to take a leap of faith. And I knew that no matter what I did, I'd come out a better person on the other side.

_ Just kidding!_

Oh, I wish I could have seen your face. That probably would have made sneaking into the priests chambers for a pen worth it.

Though, I may be joking about the job part, we did get to go out into the world today. It was exciting. Though, I ran into this girl who almost pushed me over. She didn't even stop to say sorry. Though, it doesn't seem like she paid attention to anything else… Like fashion. I mean, I may wear a blazer and uniform everyday, but her knee high yellow socks spoke for themselves.

Anyway, when I was at the library I hung out with Blaine for the entire day. I read some of Kurt's letters and learned that you guys were going to Regionals. That's great! I hope you guys win. Blaine tells me that you guys are doing Original Songs. I hope you have good song writers in your midst.

Also, another thing I learned today… Blaine is like you. He likes this guy that works down at the local GAP. I've never seen him, but apparently, he's a really neat guy. I was kind of jealous the way Blaine was so collected. I wish I was as collected.

Oh and thanks for the dictionary.

Sincerely,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Nick,

It's Jeff again. I know this is the second letter I've written to you without waiting for your response, but I just really wanted to feel like I was talking to you again. Every time I get a letter in the mail from you, it makes me feel that, for a moment, there's somebody out there who wants me. I know you don't have any idea what I'm talking about…

I had a really bad week here at Dalton. There was a large send in of orphans over the weekend and they are all under the age of two, so guess what, I'm never going to be adopted. And it sucks. What did I ever do to my parents? Why don't they want me?

Anyway, I'm sorry… I just, needed to vent. I don't even know if I should send this… You might think I'm deranged now…

Oh, fuck it.

Aren't I a gentleman,

Jeff

* * *

Jeff,

I got both of your letters at the same time, so this letter might jump from topic to topic. Which I guess is good for you. It might distract you from the rambunctious two year olds running around Dalton.

Things have been great for me here at McKinley. Our show choir just _won_ Regionals and we are already geared up for Nationals in Chicago. Maybe we can stop by Dalton on our way there. I'd love to finally meet you, maybe break you out of that orphanage. Then maybe I'll get to see that face that you keep saying people despise and could never want. Honestly, Jeff, I bet you are beautiful and you're just blind... Okay, maybe insulting your seeing ability isn't exactly what will win your heart, but whatever. I just don't think you should immediately assume that no one in this world wants you besides me. While that may be true, there has to be another person in this world who cares about you just as much as I do. I'm sure your parents didn't just give you up, they probably had a reason. If I have to tell you this every time we write, I will. You are worth something to me, don't you dare forget that.

And don't worry, you'll figure things out.

I heterosexually love you,

Nick

P.S Oh, and that girl you ran into might have been Rachel. She was going down to the Regionals office to convince them to let us use original songs. She says sorry.

* * *

Dear Nicky,

I'm so glad you guys won Regionals! I heard all about it from Blaine when I came home from the library. Kurt sent him a letter earlier this week.

I've been going to the library and checking out books on… certain topics. You've inspired me to live a little and get to know what's going on in the world.

Anyway, I'm glad that you are getting my letters on time. Around here, the mail is occasionally pre-read by Sister Roberta. She's a _really _up tight nun here at Dalton. So thank you for adding heterosexually to your ending, Sister Roberta would have killed me. She assumes the worst now-a-days. She made me do fifty hail Maries yesterday for sleeping in Blaine's bed with him; He had a really bad nightmare. Fifty. My knees were so sore after that… and I know you are laughing right now… I know what I just said.

Go ahead; I'll give you a minute.

Now that you've pulled your head from the gutter, I'll continue.

I'm writing this from my church pew, so if my sentences seem messed up it's because I'm in a bit of a rage right now. We are having our _God hates Homosexuals_ sermon today. Looks like someone _else_ doesn't want me. I'm a very disappointing child to both god and my parents aren't I? I wish the priest would stop looking at me. I wish you were here.

Break me out of here,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Wait? Did you just admit… Are you saying you are gay, Jeff? I read that letter about thirty times and am sure you subtly hinted to that… I can't believe it. Are you serious? That's great! I'm just… I can't.

_Jeff? It's Mercedes. What the hell did you write to make my boy all bouncy and happy? What are you two… Oh. Nice. I'm real proud of you. That's a brave step. I'm VERY proud of you._

**Jeff! Nick is practically bouncing off the walls, he is so happy that you figured this out. You have no idea. Everyone here is literally so happy for you.**

**-Kurt**

_You need stop making Nick smile; I think he's going to break his face. Stop it! STOP IT! He's getting all giddy. I'm worried he's drunk again._

_-Auntie Tana_

**Hey Jeff! It's your buddy, Nick's bro, Puckerman. Everyone is passing this letter around in glee club and I thought I should write something. I mean, it's not everyday a random stranger that you've only heard about through letters comes out of the closet, right? Right. So, yeah. Nice bro. Hope you have a lot of fun out there.**

_Puck! That's not what you say! Be nice to him. I swear! I don't know why I had a baby with you… Anyway, Hi Jeff, It's Quinn Fabray. I've heard such nice and lovely things about you and just wanted to give you love and acceptance. I'm a true believer in God, and I want you to know that there are faithful people who still accept you. Keep smiling Jeff._

_Love,_

_Quinn_

**I don't really like guys anymore. But me and Lord Tubbington fine happyness.**

**Brittany**

_Sorry, Brittany isn't very literate sometimes… Or ever._

_Greetings Jeff, I'm Rachel Berry and beside me is my boyfriend, Finn Hudson. I believe we might have met previously. Though, I wanted to reintroduce myself in a better and more respectable way. I wanted to say that being gay is very common to us and to me. I have two gay dads, so if you ever want to talk to me abou-_

**Give me the paper Rachel. Stop blabbing about your gay dads to this kid. Hey Jeff. It's your man Artie in the house! Just read you letter and I think that you're awesome. You can join the club if you really want, we have everything here. We have kids of every race, sexuality and even a paraplegic... Yours truly. Love your bravery man.**

_So, it's Sam. Artie wants me to write something for you, so, here I am. I think what you did is cool. Takes a real man to say that. Good for you._

**It's Mike and Tina! We just wanted to say how proud we are that you collected yourself. We are putting a little collage up in the choir room for you. We really wish we had a picture, but our pretend sketch will make do. We know how hard it is for someone to come out of the closet. Kurt went through hell and we want you to know that things will all work out. 3**

Love you,

The New Directions

* * *

Dear Nicky,

I can't believe everyone signed that… I just. I didn't know you guys actually cared that much. I mean, you want to make a _collage_ about me? That just seems unreal. We haven't even met… You guys just seem to like me no matter what I do. Unconditional love… I've never known what's it's like to have a real family.

I can't believe I'm crying,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

I'm sorry for making you cry! Here, have some tissues. They're this really cool blue kind that makes your tears purple when you cry on them. My mom used to give me them all the time when my dad died. Whenever I see purple, I'm always reminded of him… And now I'll be reminded of you.

Sorry if I'm coming on strong or whatever… It's just, I feel something when I write to you. It's like you just kind of get me. You know, growing up with just my mom, I've never been understood. Now, it's like I've know you for years. Just the way you accept everything I tell you. Like now. You probably have already moved on from learning that I only have one parent. You probably don't really care because it doesn't change me, and I thank you for that.

Sorry, I'm having a really emotional day. Can we talk about something else?

Ugly sobbing and forever yours,

Nicky

* * *

Dear Nicky,

I'm sorry you are having such a bad day. I hope you are better. It sounds like you have a lot of supportive friends in that glee club. There's also a lot I don't know, isn't there? I mean, Quinn and Puck have a baby? Rachel has gay dads? Puckerman? What kind of name is that? I am really confused, and it wouldn't be the first time.

I know what you mean. I feel it too when I write to you. It feels like… I have a friend, besides Blaine. And even then, I'm not even sure he thinks of me as his friend. His best friend is his right hand. Yes. Yes. I just said that (you are rubbing off on me. Wouldn't the nuns disapprove?) Yes. You may laugh to your hearts content. Just don't tell Kurt! Blaine will kill me. We _are_ actually friends, that other thing was a joke.

I want to write more but the nuns want me to clean the chalkboards. They keep forgetting I have asthma.

Catch you later, best friend.

Smiling finally,

Jeff


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Nicky,_

_ I'm sorry you are having such a bad day. I hope you are better. It sounds like you have a lot of supportive friends in that glee club. There's also a lot I don't know, isn't there? I mean, Quinn and Puck have a baby? Rachel has gay dads? Puckerman? What kind of name is that? I am really confused, and it wouldn't be the first time._

_ I know what you mean. I feel it too when I write to you. It feels like… I have a friend, besides Blaine. And even then, I'm not even sure he thinks of me as his friend. His best friend is his right hand. Yes. Yes. I just said that (you are rubbing off on me. Wouldn't the nuns disapprove?) Yes. You may laugh to your hearts content. Just don't tell Kurt! Blaine will kill me. We are actually friends, that other thing was a joke._

_ I want to write more but the nuns want me to clean the chalkboards. They keep forgetting I have asthma._

_ Catch you later, best friend._

_ Smiling finally,_

_ Jeff_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Dear Jeff,

There is so much drama and stuff going on in this glee club. I enclosed a diagram of the relationships of the New Directions. I also put pictures of everyone, just so you can see what they look like and their awkward forms; a lot of them weren't really ready for their close ups. I also had everyone sign their pictures for you, though Brittany signed hers in crayon, sorry. I bought you more tissues, just in case. So, they are in here too.

I won't be able to answer you for a while because of Nationals. I'll be gone for a bit, so just hang tight and try to keep it together. And, just so you can pretend that you are here with us, here's us singing Paradise by the Dashboard Light, I recorded us practicing yesterday. Sorry it's a cassette tape, hope you don't mind. The leads are Rachel and Finn, and I personally think that they killed this song. It didn't stand a chance against their voices, but that's just how Rachel sings. I sure hope she gets into her college.

Sorry this is so rushed, I'm trying to get this to you before I have to leave for the school to catch the bus to Nationals and the only post office for miles closes at noon.

Love you,

Nicky

* * *

Dear Nicky,

I know you won't get this until later but... That ending. I can't stop reading that ending. Did you mean it?

I'm just being stupid,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Nick,

It's been three days and I can't stop thinking about you, what you wrote. I don't know why, but I just never thought someone could _love_ me. Whether or not you meant it heterosexually. I'm not sure how I can explain it to you.

Whenever I go to put a word down, just knowing that you will read it and understand whatever the _hell_ it is I'm trying to say to you makes me so happy. It gives me this weird feeling in my chest that I really like.

I've spoken to Blaine, who's spoken to Kurt, and he says that I have feelings for you. Like romantic ones, and I don't get it. I don't understand! I DON'T WANT TO BE CONFUSED AGAIN!

From,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Nicholas Duval,

This is Sister Roberta of Dalton Academy: Orphanage of Religion, Faith and Education. I've recently stumbled across the letters sent to and from a certain orphan, Jeffrey R. Sterling. And I want you to realize that the Academy will not tolerate it. We do not want to have our children communicating with people like you. We will not tolerate this. So can either help Jeff see that what he's 'realized' is wrong or never write him another single letter.

Sincerely,

Dalton Academy

* * *

Dear Sister Roberta,

Fuck you.

Hugs and kisses,

The New Directions (minus Nick)

* * *

Dear Jeff,

I just got home from the competition! We won! As soon as we got back to the choir room with the trophy, I collected all your letters but one was taken from me by the rest of the club, so I'm sorry if one of your letters isn't answered. They won't let me see it, and they said they sent a reply already.

But, I was allowed to read the two you sent me… both seemingly about my choice of ending. I'm sorry if I've made things more confusing. I didn't mean to! I just wrote what was rushing through my head, and what I was thinking was…that. I'm sorry, but it's just what I feel.

I know this is probably very stupid. I mean, I'm writing _letters_ to you. I don't know what you look like. I don't know what your voice sound like. I don't know _anything_ about you.

How do I even know you are real? You seem too good to be true.

Not sure how to end this,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

My favorite color is yellow.

I like the sounds of thunderstorms.

I hate the smell of chalk.

I love home cooked foods.

I used to be a vegan, but I got _extremely_ sick and was forced to eat animal products again.

Sometimes I take a shower in the middle of the day to cry.

I once cut my hair with a ruler. (Yes, I did. It took three hours.)

I hate when people don't wear socks. (Blaine does it all the time.)

I never leave the Academy without your letters tucked in my uniform pocket.

I once spat on a Bible.

When I was six, I set fire to the Academy's common room, by accident.

I cry every time I see the Titanic.

I snuck out of Dalton to go see a showing of the Titanic with Blaine.

I've never gone trick-or-treating.

I once was locked in the library. I was sent to confession the next day. They thought I was doing drugs…or sleeping with homeless people, something like that.

I dream about meeting you a lot.

I use the same pen to write to you. Sometimes the priest steals it.

We once had a priest that tried to drown a young boy… It was me.

I'm afraid of swimming and large bodies of water.

I'm afraid of large crowds.

I love watching clouds.

Sometimes, I bite my lip so much that it bleeds.

I get nervous _a lot_. (See above)

I once told a nun to go fuck herself. Once. I will _never _do that again.

Sister Roberta is related the royal family of England, yet she chooses to torture me with Latin lessons every other day.

My dream is to leave this orphanage and get married and live in a house somewhere quiet with someone I love.

I find walking on sidewalks to be relaxing.

I hate when people leave gum on the sidewalks. I tend to walk in it.

I broke my leg when I jumped off the Academy's roof.

I was born in Michigan, then moved to Ohio, and was left here.

I don't remember anything up to living in Dalton. (The above fact is in my file)

I once broke into the priest's office to read my own file.

I was once sent to a detention for a whole day. (See above)

When I get a letter from you, a read it in my head, then I read it aloud.

Blaine has been my roommate for ten years.

Blaine likes to wake me up by hugging me; he's very much into physical affection.

When I first arrived at Dalton, I used to have the nuns read me _Good Night Moon_ every night.

I once gave myself a concussion by slipping on a marble.

I've always wanted a song written about me.

Now you know something about me. The real me, This real me that _does_ exist.

Forever yours,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

I've memorized your facts. I love knowing things about you. I love knowing you.

Now, I'm a terrible song writer, so Rachel helped me write a song… About you.

It's called Pretending.

_Face to face and heart to heart_

_We're so close yet so far apart_

_I close my eyes.I look away_

_That's just because I'm not okay_

_But I hold on, I stay strong_

_Wondering if we still belong_

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling?_

_Reach down underneath it_

_Tear down all the walls_

_Will we ever have a happy ending?_

_Or will we forever only be pretending…_

_Will we always, always, always be pretending?_

_How long do I fantasize_

_Make believe that it's still alive_

_Imagine that I am good enough_

_And we can choose the ones we love_

_But I hold on, I stay strong_

_Wondering if we still belong_

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling?_

_Reach down underneath it_

_Tear down all the walls_

_Will we ever have a happy ending?_

_Or will we forever only be pretending…_

_Will we always, always, always be-_

_Keeping secret safe_

_Every move we make_

_Seems like no one's letting go_

_And it's a shame_

'_Cause if you feel the same_

_How am I supposed to know?_

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling?_

_Reach down underneath it_

_Tear down all the walls_

_Will we ever have a happy ending?_

_Or will we forever only be pretending…_

_Will we always, always, always be pretending?_

_Will we always, always, always be pretending?_

_Will we always, always, always be pretending?_

Love,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

That's a beautiful song. I had a hard time reading it aloud because I didn't know how it went… Maybe you could sing it for me. I borrowed Sister Marie's cassette player for the week. The words mean one thing when the written on paper, I want to hear them how you meant them.

Sincerely yours,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Before you listen to the tape, I want you to know it took me three takes to get that right. Even then, I cried a lot. Sorry if my voice shakes. Tina helped out with the back up vocals in attempts to keep the track from sounding wobbly. Tell me how it sounds.

Enjoy the song,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

I'm about to listen to the tape. It feels so surreal. I'm going to _hear your voice_. I'm going to hear the voice of a person that only exists on paper. This is going to make you real…

_** Hi Nick, it's Blaine. Jeff's in tears right now and can't finish his letter. I just wanted to tell you that he absolutely loves your song. A lot. He won't stop listening to it. To your voice.**_

_** Please send him another. I've never seen him this emotional. He's always closed up.**_

_** You're very good for him.**_

_** Sincerely,**_

_** Blaine Anderson**_

* * *

Dear Jeff,

I hope you're okay. I didn't mean to make you cry uncontrollably, I just wanted to ask a simple question. Are we pretending? Are we just acting like we want to be friends, or more? Well, of course not if we keep writing letters back to each other like our lives depend on it. I know I'm not pretending. I want to know you, I want to meet you. I just want to be with you.

I don't understand it either. How can I fall in love with this _idea_ I have of you? I know I shouldn't, but I just feel like this is right. You aren't very surprising, personality wise. You are a very relaxed person and I can tell what you think and how you will react to just about anything. (Like now, you are probably furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and thinking back to every reaction you've had while reading.)

I can't make myself _not_ like you.

Sorry,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

I was crying for the same reason you are confused. I had this idea of what you would sound like and how you would sing that song…I was right. You sounded just how I imagined. It's like we've met before.

About this whole 'love' thing we keep walking around. I remember something you wrote to me in one of our first letters: 'There's also that internal voice, telling you that _he's_ the one. He's the one that you just _want_ to talk to or spend time with or kiss or love. It shouldn't be a conscious choice. You just kind of know.'

You are him. I just know.

Not pretending,

Jeff

* * *

_Dear Jeffrey,_

_ This is Tina. _**And Mike!**_We just wanted to let you know that Nick fainted after reading your last letter and got a bit of a concussion; He fell off the stage… So he won't be writing to you for a little bit. We haven't read the other letters, so we aren't sure what he's fainted from. Sorry, we just wanted to warn you. He'll write back as soon as he remembers what day it is._

_Yours forever,_

_The New Directions_

* * *

Dear Nick

I realize now that you might not know who I am or why you are getting this letter, but I hope you are alright. I haven't been able to sleep thinking about _my_ letters causing you to fall and hit your head so badly you forget what day it is. I feel awful. All I wanted to say was that I _really_ like you. And that maybe, I might, I love you.

I don't know what I'm saying at this point. I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I just, I want you to be okay. I can't loose you. I just can't. You are the closest thing I've ever had to someone understanding me. And you just can't go away! I need you.

Stay with me,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Nick,

It's been weeks. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I miss your letters, your company, your love, your support. Most of all; I miss _you_.

I really want you to be okay. Please?

I'm having a really tough time here. A couple came in and asked if I was up for adoption. Then the nun opened her fucking mouth and told them that I was gay. The couple gasped and left. So now I will never have parents, or a family. I'm a hopeless case. What's the point anymore?

I really need you Nicky.

Crying again,

Jeff


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Nick,_

_ It's been weeks. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I miss your letters, your company, your love, your support. Most of all; I miss you._

_ I really want you to be okay. Please?_

_ I'm having a really tough time here. A couple came in and asked if I was up for adoption. Then the nun opened her fucking mouth and told them that I was gay. The couple gasped and left. So now I will never have parents, or a family. I'm a hopeless case. What's the point anymore?_

_ I really need you Nicky._

_ Crying again,_

_ Jeff_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Dearest Jeff,

I just got back from the hospital, and the New Directions brought me all the letters when I was released. I'm actually writing this in the car on my way home.

The whole time I was in the hospital, I didn't know what it was I needed to be doing; all I knew was that I needed to be with someone or doing something for someone. Then, when I read your letters… I couldn't believe it. I had someone that _might_ _love me_. I nearly fainted again.

I don't know what it is about you Jeff. But, I need you too. I don't want to spend another week without a letter from you. It has become part of my life, _you_ have become part of my life.

And maybe…I love you too.

I hope you're feeling better now that I wrote you this. I don't ever want to hear that you think you're hopeless. There are so many people that love you and would be more than happy to listen to thunderstorms with you or wake you up with hugs or stay home and cook for you. If Blaine doesn't, then for fucks sake, I WILL. I will find you and make you feel better. I don't ever want to hear that you think you aren't worth everything you are.

I love you Jeff,

Nicky

* * *

Dear Jeff,

It's been a week… Are you okay? Jeff, you are scaring me. Why haven't you written to me? Please tell me you are okay. Please. Kurt hasn't gotten a letter back from Blaine to see if you are alive and I'm freaking out over here and the doctors said that's not good for my condition but I don't care and I'm worried about you so please be alive and please don't be sad anymore. I just realized that was one long sentence. See how distracted I am? Please just write to me as soon as you can. I'm so worried about you. I feel responsible.

I still love you,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nicky

Sorry it's taken me so long, but I've been depressed lately. _God_, I hate saying that, but I was _diagnosed_ by the orphanage's doctor that I have depression. For what reason, I don't know. They put me on these weird pills and I don't like taking them. They taste really disgusting, and it just makes me not like being here even more.

Actually, I have a secret. And since you are the only person I've ever trusted besides Blaine, I feel like I can tell you. Yesterday, I thought about like, hurting myself. I don't know how I suddenly came to this. But I was sitting in bed after Blaine had fallen asleep and I felt really sad. Like nothing would ever cheer me up again. Those stupid nuns hated me; no one will ever want to be the parent of _me, _this strange gay catholic child. I had lived seventeen, almost eighteen years, and nothing to show for it. I'm so pointless. I remember thinking about the CD that Blaine broke yesterday by accident. The shards were in the trash. I actually thought about using them to hurt myself. Is that normal? Nicky, I'm scared. I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore. Can you just tell me you love me again? Make this hurt go away?

I love you too,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

Jeffrey Sterling. Don't you _dare_ hurt yourself. Understand me? I will come over there and smother you in cuddles until you understand that you aren't a bad person because no one wants to adopt you or 'doesn't want you'. You are a sweet and caring person, who likes yellow, watching clouds, and guys. And Jeff, I will tell you a thousand times.

I love you.

I love you.

Ego amare.

I remember you take Latin, so I threw that in there. I figured that way, I love you in more than one language, which I guess is impressive considering I don't know the second one. But, no matter if I can speak it or not, I still do care about you Jeff. I don't want you to hurt yourself. Ever. In fact, send me those CD shards. I don't want them near you, and don't think I won't tell Kurt to tell Blaine to hide them, because I will. I want you safe. Okay?

If you ever feel really sad. Please talk to Blaine or if he's asleep. _Call me._

Those numbers in the corner are my phone number,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nicky,

I don't really have a phone that I can use to call you, sorry. The library has a pay phone, but I don't have a job. So… No money. I'm sorry. I really want to call you, but Blaine is now sleeping with me, so you don't have to worry. Not like that, I meant he goes to bed with me. I mean, he makes sure I- YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! _Stop laughing._

He makes sure that I don't cry at night anymore, even if that means we both have to clean the chalk boards in the morning for breaking school policy. Blaine says it's worth it. He says that he's taking your place to make sure I'm safe. He's such a good friend. I love him. Not like that, but like a brother. I want you to meet him too. He's really the only family I have. He already seems to like you, so, you've been blessed. You can love me, Blaine has dubbed you an appropriate suitor.

I also wanted to warn you that you will be getting another letter from me soon. It has the CD in it. I decided not to send it with this incase you accidently opened it in public or on carpeting. I know how badly those things can cut. NOT LIKE THAT. I should just stop writing to you. I ramble too much.

I'm just messing with you,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

If you ever stopped writing to me, I think I might actually die. I live off that adorable blue inked handwriting you use to cheer me up every week. It's like oxygen.

I got the CD and I'm very proud of you. I don't want you to hurt yourself because you think people want you a different way. That's ridiculous. I think that you are perfect. No matter what those other fools think. You will always be the perfect Jeff Sterling to me. Catholic or not. Gay or straight. Shy or bold. Tall or short. Blond or brunet. Fluent in Latin or Italian. Either way, I'll accept you. As long as you accept me, and all my awkwardness. Me with my weird shaggy brown hair that always seems to find a way into my eyes during pictures, my voice that cracks when I get emotional, and my only parent who thinks that I still date girls… Oh mom. If only she knew. I think I should really re-clue her in. I think she forgot.

Awkwardly leaving to come out again,

Nick

* * *

Dear Nick,

I hope your mother remembers your orientation to make things less awkward. When I came out, it wasn't on purpose. The nuns found the letter you and the New Directions sent me and just kind of figured everything out. Also, I think Sister Marie reads minds… She knows a lot of things. It scares me. She always knows what I'm thinking. She often tells me what you just told me, about being perfect. Though, I only believe you. You know everything about me that I hide from others. You know Jeff Sterling, not _Jeffrey Remington Sterling_, and I like that Jeff so much better. Though, that Jeff does have some mental problems that need solving… With something other than medication.

Honestly, I hate my medicine. I don't even know what it is actually. The nuns just give it to me when we eat in the dining hall, and I take it without asking any questions. But it makes me feel weird, like I can't feel anything, I can't feel sadness. It just doesn't happen. It's like I'm blocked off. I'm afraid that I won't feel anything for you after a while and that would push me over the edge. I don't think I could live if I couldn't feel that same jolt of joy I get from seeing your name on the return address on an envelope. That would be worse than any boring punishment the nuns could possibly give me. Actually, it would be hell.

I think I can still love,

Jeff

* * *

Dear Jeff,

If you can't feel something by just looking at a letter, then you just need something else. You will be receiving a package in a few days, from The New Directions. There will be another letter to explain myself more in there. Write me back when you get your package. I hope you like your gift.

I'm waiting,

Nick

* * *

Dear Jeff,

As you dig through this quite large cardboard box, let me explain a few things.

That big black shoe box, open it first. Yep, that's a cassette player, so you don't have to borrow the Sister's anymore. And yes, I wrote your name in yellow on it, I had to. Sorry for my terrible handwriting.

In the plastic bag underneath all the packing peanuts are cassette tapes. On them are messages from me. I sang on some, others I just spoke to you. I hope you like really overly lovely ballads, because I sang five for you. The other eight are speaking and the last one, which is white, is from the New Directions. We sang you a song then they each went around and said something. I tell you this so that way, you know to have tissues near by. (Tissues are underneath the orange box)

The small orange box has candles in it. Puck heard you birthday was coming up and decided to send you _seventeen_ birthday candles in hopes you can fool the nuns. He doesn't want you to become homeless, no one here does, he just shows it in his own way.

In the bubble wrap is a framed picture of the New Directions, minus myself (I took the picture). They all signed the back.

Also, Kurt packed a teddy bear for you. It is red with a blue nose because of your uniforms. Blaine actually sent Kurt a tie from your wardrobe, so he wanted to say sorry. Don't kill him.

As always Jeff, I want you to know that we are always here to support you, because we love you. And if you don't feel anything anymore because of the letters then I will keep sending you these, you just need something more because everything else is bringing you down. I get it.

Lots of love and packing tape,

Nicky

* * *

Dear Nicky,

I stayed up all night listening to your tapes. And I felt something. I felt so happy and I actually cried. I cried Nicky. I haven't cried in weeks. It felt so good to _feel_ something! Thank you so much. I love you. I can say that now. I love you Nicky. I will never forget how your perfect and smooth voice told me everything I've always wanted to hear:

_ You aren't different from everyone else, the world just hasn't gotten the same memo as you. You are important. You are everything the world should be._

Sadly, your attempts are only brightening things a little bit. My birthday is in five days. Five, and I'm so scared. What's going to happen to me Nicky? I only have a few things to my name, including a lot of letters. How is that going to get me anywhere? The orphanage has already started to pack up some of my stuff. Please help me.

Love you,

Jeff


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Nicky,_

_ I stayed up all night listening to your tapes. And I felt something. I felt so happy and I actually cried. I cried Nicky. I haven't cried in weeks. It felt so good to feel something! Thank you so much. I love you. I can say that now. I love you Nicky. I will never forget how your perfect and smooth voice told me everything I've always wanted to hear:_

_ You aren't different from everyone else, the world just hasn't gotten the same memo as you. You are important. You are everything the world should be._

_ Sadly, you attempts are only brightening things a little bit. My birthday is in five days. Five, and I'm so scared. What's going to happen to me Nicky? I only have a few things to my name, including a lot of letters. How is that going to get me anywhere? The orphanage has already started to pack up some of my stuff. Please help me._

_ Love you,_

_ Jeff_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Dear Jeff,

Don't worry. You'll be fine Jeff. I have all the faith in the world in you. You are a smart person, you'll be able to get a job and survive. Don't get down on yourself so much, the world is so big and open, Jeff. Don't be afraid of it. If you make the right choices, the world will help you. And if not, I will. I will always be here, either at home or at McKinley thinking about you. If you ever need me, you know where to find me. Right here in Lima, Ohio.

I'm sorry I can't write much more, I have this _enormous_ project on the Industrial revolution due in a week. I better start it, huh?

Until next time,

Your Nicky

* * *

Dear Nicky,

It's my birthday today, and you know what that means. I'm now a legal adult and have been kicked out of the orphanage. All I have are the clothes on my back and your letters and tapes in my sweatshirt pocket.

This will be the last letter I send to you because I will have no address and nowhere to go. I'm going to miss your letters and company so much.

Even now, just sitting in the library, I am reminded _so_ much of you. All you have helped me learn and realize about myself, all you have helped me survive. I can't thank you enough. _God!_ Now I'm crying. Great, the guy at the check out counter is staring at me now. He must think I'm crazy. As I'm sure everyone does. Except you. You're the only one who understands me. The only one who understands my weird love for storms, hugs, and the color yellow. The only one who loves _me_.

I can't believe this is goodbye.

All my love,

Jeff

* * *

Jeff's tears dropped onto the paper and smeared his handwriting. His heart clenched as he realized he'd have to rewrite the letter so it could be legible, and he'd had to put himself through the heartbreak _again_.

The blond looked up as he tried to blink away some of his tears. The boy at the counter was still looking at him with big concerned eyes. The stare made Jeff uncomfortable. Luckily, a librarian returned to the counter and caught the boy's attention. Jeff began to rewrite the letter as the boy at the counter asked for a book on the Industrial Revolution.

_The Industrial Revolution_.

Jeff's head shot up. He put his pen down and jammed his hand into his pocket, searching for a letter Nick had sent him. His fingers fumbled with the gritty fine paper Nick always used. Finally, he got the latest letter and unfolded it and splayed it on the table. His eyes hungrily searched for a sentence.

_I have this enormous project on the Industrial Revolution due in a week._

Then, Jeff noticed the sentence above it.

_If you ever need me, you know where to find me. Right here in Lima, Ohio._

Lima, Ohio. That was not too far from Westerville, maybe two hours.

Jeff felt something in him shift. It fit together. It fit together _too_ well. His heart began racing as he stared at the back of the boy at the counter. Jeff wanted to see his face again. Just to see it… Maybe to compare. But what would Jeff even be comparing it to.

"Fuck it." Jeff mumbled to himself as he folded the letter back up. He cleared his throat as he stood from the table, his hand shaking as he gripped the table for support. "Nicky?"

It took a moment, but the boy at the counter turned around. Jeff finally met the boy's eyes, only to look away so he could take in every feature of the boy's appearance. Jeff still wasn't sure what he was comparing the boy's face to, whatever it was, the boy definitely looked better. He was beyond perfection.

"_Nicky_? How do you…" The heavy textbook fell from his hands as he stared at the blond, shock written all over his face. "Jeff?"

Jeff almost knocked over an entire bookshelf as he rushed to embrace Nick. His arms felt familiar, the way he cradled Jeff instead of squeezing him tightly. It made Jeff not want to let go. This was the boy who had told him he loved him, the boy who saved him from harming himself, the boy who had come to save him without even knowing it. Jeff buried his face in Nick's shoulder and started crying. His body began shaking with sobs as feelings took over and turned Jeff into a wreck of emotions. Nick only cradled Jeff further as the boy broke down. _He wasn't alone anymore._

"I'm so glad I found you." Jeff managed through his heavy breathing. He felt as if his other half had finally found him. He felt like now he didn't have to explain to anyone _why_ he was how he was. He didn't have to explain why he was gay, why he loved home cooked food, why he loved yellow, why he loved watching clouds. He didn't have to because Nick accepted it. This boy, who was holding him so lovingly, thought that all of those things were okay and were what made him '_perfect'_.

Jeff clung to Nick and didn't ever plan on letting him go. He had finally found where he belonged.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Once Jeff and Nick found each other, they never parted. Jeff had finally found someone who accepted him and loved him, and Nick had finally found his missing other half. Every little moment spent together was a moment they cherished.

Once high school was over, they were forced to go their separate ways to continue their education in college. That wasn't to say that they didn't keep in touch, in fact they wrote to one another everyday. Jeff still used his old pen and Nick still used the awful gritty printing paper. It was just like their first year of meeting, except this time, they knew exactly where to find each other. Jeff would call his boyfriend if his depression ever tipped over. They'd stay on the phone for hours as Nick repeatedly told Jeff how perfect he was, just being himself. How he shouldn't change because of a few kids at college. They were nobodies, just like the nuns. Jeff just had to keep his head up and remember that Nick loved him just the way he was.

Nick saved Jeff's life eleven times during his four years at college.

Once college was finally over, they spent as much time as they could with each other. No separation. No letters. Just waking up with a hug and kiss every morning and only having a few inches between them, instead of hundreds of miles. This was how they lived their lives for another six months while they both kept mediocre low paying jobs just to keep the apartment afloat. Jeff worked at a coffee shop, the Lima Bean, everyday as well as the local Italian restaurant, BreadStix, Tuesdays through Fridays. Nick, on the other hand, went around to different coffee houses and bars to perform. His popularity slowly began to rise and Jeff was able to quit his job at BreadStix. Before long they were thinking about moving out of their apartment and into a house, but there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Jeff received a sealed envelope in the mail no more than a week later. He sat at the counter with Nick during breakfast and broke the wax seal. What fell out changed his life for the better. It was not only a folded piece of paper, but a silver ring fell out with it.

Jeff and Nick were married three months later, their vows written down on Nick's gritty printing paper in Jeff's blue pen from Dalton.

Soon after they were wed, they bought the house of their dreams: A yellow cottage next to a meadow where there were no neighbors for miles. And soon, the two had the perfect family with the three beautiful boys which they adopted from Dalton Academy.

Jeff later became a kindergarten teacher in the Lima school district, and his depression got better everyday. Spending six hours a day covered in finger paint with five year olds, then getting to go home to his husband who always cooked dinner for him and watched the Titanic with him when it stormed, made everything seem so much brighter. Everyday was one he looked forward to.

Nick continued his career as a performing artist, climbing the charts as pop's newest heartthrob. During the duration of his career he put out a total of sixteen number one albums. Nick loved all of his successful songs, but his favorite was his first hit single, _Pretending_, written for his other half, his pen pal, his lover, his husband, Jeff Sterling.


End file.
